


Knight and Day

by nagemeikenu



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Knight!Nico, Knight!Will, Knights - Freeform, Luke Castellan is a bad guy, M/M, Midieval AU, Royal!Annabeth, Royal!Percy, Solangelo Spring Ball 2020, Solangelo Week, background percabeth, percabeth, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24670702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagemeikenu/pseuds/nagemeikenu
Summary: Nico and Will are knights, called to serve Duke Blofis during a celebration of Estelle's birth. Will they see eye to eye on what needs to be done? Will they be able to work together when the castle is in danger? Will I find a better way to summarize fics? Stay tuned!
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Knight and Day

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings all! I was so happy to submit a fic for this year's Solangelo Spring Ball! I worked with [regenwolf](https://regenwolf.tumblr.com/), who produced [](<div)<https://regenwolf.tumblr.com/post/621023168328597504/knight-and-day-my-artwork-for-the-solangeloweek> >a fabulous artwork to go with the fic! I was so happy we got to do a medieval au and I got to flex my history muscles! This fic was beta'd by [purplechimera8](https://purplechimera8.tumblr.com/), who helped me with grammar and finding Nico's voice! I hope you all enjoy <3

In March, just after the spring equinox, the Blofis duchy welcomed a daughter into their world. On such a joyous occasion, they gave a grand feast for nobility and commoners alike. Several lords and fellow, local nobles notified timely of their intent to attend, which meant that knights would be needed to ensure safety and peaceful revelry. Two obvious choices were sent for immediately, and welcomed into the Blofis castle.

The first was Sir William Solace, from the southern region. Sir Solace was known for his gentle yet strong personality, and was selected for his ability to put the visiting nobles at ease. It was said he had quite the way with healing, just as he did with a bow. Even if he was merely mediocre with a sword, none could outshoot Sir Solace. Oftentimes he was hired for his bow and keen eyesight alone, though it helped that he had a warm presence.

The second, Sir Nico di Angelo, was hired purely for his skill with a sword and keen eye for threats. Sir di Angelo was less charismatic and personable, but none could match him with a blade except Percy Blofis, future Duke of Hatten. Their matches were tracked closely throughout the countryside, and Duke Blofis was proud that his heir could match the fiercest blade in Europe. Though he was not a man who frequently smiled, he was one that made the right people feel safe, and the others feel threatened. Oftentimes, the Italian’s very presence was deterrent enough to ensure no violence would occur.

More protection was found in those currently serving the Duke in his castle and lands, and preparations were underway for the days leading up to the feast. The knights there already were eager to discuss both newcomers, as none had met them personally. It was to this gossip that the Italian, Nico, had been greeted.

The horse had gone at a steady pace for the week of traveling, and Nico was not one to push his horse too far too fast. To his mind, it was inefficient to push those boundaries. It tended to break the horse rather than records. As for himself, he was tired of riding. When he first saw the castle in the distance, he felt a rare grin slip across his face. From here, he could only see the greenery surrounding the castle. Wilderness had carefully been cultivated into farmland, creating a pastoral approach with the castle the landmark. He’d first seen the castle ten years ago, and had felt nearly at home. Of course, this was not Italy, but the castle was not extensively decorated as others were. The simplicity was his favorite part of the building. Too often, extra detail hid a damaged foundation. 

He could see the figures of the guards as he came up the road, which meant they could clearly see him if they were to pay attention. Instead, the two figures were barely spaced apart. The villagers finishing their work in the fields noticed him before the guards. Likely, they were too busy chattering at each other like crows to see the world around them. Certainly the duke deserved much better protection than that was being demonstrated. He slowed his horse to a quiet walk, took in the third guard lazily moving away from the other two guards. That guard was making a round, but if he was paying attention, the other two would be warned. As he grew closer, the third guard disappeared around the curve of the outer wall. He couldn’t scold him, but he could certainly scold the two left. After a moment, he stopped his horse and dismounted. Leading his horse by the bridle, he moved quietly forward. As he suspected, the guards did not change position as he approached. By now, he began to hear their voices. He was not yet close enough to decipher what was being said. When he was within a javelin’s range, he gestured for his horse to stop and stay in place. He drew his sword and moved at a normal walking pace. He was within arm’s length before the knight on his right took note of his approach. Nico, in a swift motion, moved his arm upward. Now the knight was cross-eyed, trying to see the blade stopped at his Adam’s apple.

“I could have slain both of you four times over by the time you paid mind to your post.” So saying, he lowered his sword and introduced himself. These guards he did not recognize; he cursed at the lack of stability in guards and protection. This would be his third journey to the castle, though this visit was five years from the last. Even so, it seemed there were new people in employ now. He doubted he’d recognize guards or knights here, but he might recognize a few servants. After five years, he expected to see many new faces. He tried to not immediately turn into a storm cloud, but the lack of propriety shown by the guards now did not help. Out of a protective sense he gave to few in the world, he decided the rest of his interactions with these two gossipers would be a test of their capabilities. 

So far, they failed immensely by neglecting their watchfulness and thoroughly distracting each other from their duties. The knights did, however, ask for evidence of his identity. That was something, at least. Easily, Nico gave them the letter Duke Blofis had sent. The seal was the Duke’s signet ring, and the letter bore his signature. Once the guards were satisfied, he and his horse were ushered in by another person Nico did not recognize; the two knights stood stiffly at their post, an appropriate distance apart now. He gave them an approving nod before moving past the outer wall. It was in his nature to scan his eyes over the pale grey stone, taking in the two towers on either sides, with high crenellation on the top walkways for guards. He counted ten archers at the ready, which was customary. Likely more for show than for actual security; it was more effective to hide the archers rather than put them on display. When in line of sight, they could be shot down. Even so, they looked capable and ready for anything.

The banners bearing the Blofis coat of arms were gently swinging in the wind. The familiar blue, green and silver symbol welcomed Nico more than the servants did. It wasn’t that the servants were ungracious or incompetent, it was that Nico was unused to the aid. He had never taken a squire, and very nearly swore never to do so. His sister had told him to never make an oath he could not keep faithfully, and he conceded that perhaps in time he would take up a youth to teach. Such an occasion, to his mind, was long in the future if possible at all. Nico smiled to himself as his horse was stabled and his belongings taken to his guest chamber. He kept his black sword at his side, though he was assured it wouldn’t be necessary.

“I should rather have my sword and have no occasion to use it than be missing it when I need it most.” The three men had seen it futile to refuse him, and led him inside the castle. Nico had stopped smiling as soon as he’d had to talk. Nico was rarely in a mood to speak with other people, though in his work it was too often necessary. He followed one servant into the dining hall containing other guests Nico would rather avoid. Before he could do so, he was seen by several people. He barely resisted cursing under his breath.

“Sir di Angelo, welcome,” Lord Percy, dressed in blue, called to him.

“Lord Percy.” Nico bowed, then approached with a slight smile. He had missed this nobleman, if only because he acted more like a man than a title. A bit of talk with Lord Percy would not tax him much, to Nico’s thinking.

“I am happy to have you here. I need a challenge with a blade. Perhaps on the morrow, you would be kind enough to indulge me.”

“I am happy to best you with a sword, my Lord.” Percy laughed at Nico's reply where other nobles would have taken offense.

“Good! I should like to introduce you to others here.”

“If I must, my Lord.” Already Nico regretted speaking to Lord Percy. Now he’d be led about the room to speak niceties. Niceties were incorrectly named.

“I regret to inform you tis necessary. Since this is such a trial, call me Percy.”

“Lead the way, Percy.” Nico had always gone back to using Percy’s title after a time apart. It was one of his ways of making sure he didn’t overstep. Additionally, it had been five years since he’d seen the man despite letters being sent between friends. It was important to remember that Percy in the letters was still a noble, still requiring a certain level of formality. Naturally, Percy took the knight around the room, and Nico was fast losing any inclination to be mannerly. Then, he took in the easy smile of a golden-haired man with bright blue eyes. He was disconcerted by the warmth the man exuded, and stiffened against it.

“Sir Solace, I present to you Sir di Angelo. You have never met, and I thought that a terrible shame.”  _ Sir Solace, esteemed archer, who was carrying no weapon and looked like a nobleman instead of a knight. How on earth was Nico meant to work with him? There was more regard for the people inside than for the people possibly coming in _ . Nico tried to remember that he was much more vigilant than most knights. Some called it paranoia; he called it preparedness.

“Sir di Angelo, your reputation precedes you. I have heard much.” Sir Solace gave a small bow. Nico bowed in return automatically, trying to gather all the manners he had. Of all the people, this was the one to whom he cared to be civil.

“Sir Solace, I have heard much about you as well. I hope we work well together.” Nico managed a smile. He knew without a looking glass that it had no semblance to his true smile, but it was an effort.

“I share that hope.” Sir Solace offered a hand with his wide smile. Nico took it after a small hesitation.

“I shall leave you to discuss strategy and such,” Percy nodded to them.

“Thank you, Percy.” Sir Solace bowed, and Nico remembered to do so as well at the last minute.

“Did you travel far, sir?” The gilded knight asked.

“I did, yes.”

“I would ask that you rest from your journey here, then. I doubt we shall be set upon just now.”

“You never know.” Nico narrowed his eyes.

“Should I be wrong I’ll send for you immediately. Additionally, you would be able to say ‘I told you so’. Will that convince you to rest?” Apparently Nico’s hesitation was indication enough for the other knight, who persevered. “How about this: should we be set upon in the coming hours, and you hadn’t rested, you would be ill matched for any who crossed you. Without rest, you doom the rest of us.”

“I shall bargain with you.” Nico looked into the other’s eyes. “You be sure to check the outer wall’s defenses while I rest.”

“Done,” Sir Solace reassured him. “I hope you rest well, sir.” Of course, this meant yet more bowing as Nico left the hall, but he finally hailed a servant and was shown his room. He had yet to recognize a single face other than Percy’s. He tried not to feel bitter about it, and failed spectacularly. It was his own fault he’d turned the Duke’s lead guard position down. He’d wanted to travel and see more of the world. Meet someone. Of course, he had traveled. To his sorrow, he’d yet to meet a true companion. Thinking on the serious blue eyes that contradicted the blond’s warmth and easy manner, he fell asleep.

When he woke, it was full dark and he was quite annoyed. He thought of the blond Solace and his smile, cursed, and tried to focus on dressing and remembering his duties. If the thought of a particular pair of blue eyes flashed into his mind, he pushed it aside quickly enough. Once he was presentable, he heard a knock on his door. He called them to come in as he strapped his sword to his hip.

“Sir di Angelo, you are awake! Good.” Sir Solace stepped into the space.

“Why was I not roused earlier?” Nico glared at the other man.

“You rode for two days to get here. As someone who understands the human body better than most, I let you rest as much as possible before you took up duties. Now, I have a report for you.”

“A report?”

“Aye, sir. One reached me regarding a Marquis Castellan.” It was now Nico noticed that Sir Solace carried a blade, and had done away with his well-made clothing in favor of more serviceable attire; he was wearing brown and soft white instead of the bold sapphire and gold from earlier. Part of him approved, and the rest of him thought the approval was too fervent and irrelevant.

“Marquis Castellan? Betrothed to Lady Annabeth Chase?” Nico frowned.

“Indeed. It seems he has allied himself with K.R.O.N.O.S.” Sir Solace had lost the light of casual merriment, and suddenly looked somber. Nico thought it was entirely justified, for K.R.O.N.O.S. was a society not to be trifled with and not to be borne at the same time. Those associated with K.R.O.N.O.S. were known for their fear-mongering and blackmail to coerce nobles into giving over grain and goods from their lands. The common people living there, as well as the nobles, had to go hungry and had nothing to help them. Blackmailed nobles were one thing, nobles allied with the society were quite another. There were rumors of magic and black sorcery as well, but Nico paid no mind to that.

“You trust your source?”

“Without question.” Sir Solace rested a hand on his sword. “I believe he will attempt to take Lady Chase before the alliance is known fully.” This seemed like an excellent occasion to swear profusely in Italian.

“I agree.” Sir Solace replied without blinking.

“What kind of preparations have you made?”

“I have informed our knights of the possibility of an incursion to abduct Lady Chase. Her guard will increase and archers on the top wall will not stand in the open. Additionally, I’m posting more archers in the tower windows.”

“The more eyes the better,” Nico approved.

“Exactly my thoughts.”

“Have you informed the family of the marquis’ alliance?”

“Duke Blofis and the duchess have been informed, but…” The blond stopped, bit his lip.

“But?” Nico frowned, and forced himself to concentrate.

“Percy and Lady Chase would be betrothed had the betrothal to the marquis not been made at her birth.”

“I see.” And Nico did see. If Percy knew of Lady Chase’s dangerous predicament, the man would ride off to find the marquis himself. He sighed at Percy’s renowned impulsivity, and set it aside.

“Has Lady Chase been made aware?”

“Aye.”

“Was that wise?”

“It would have been foolish not to.” Sir Solace sighed. “She is not the kind of woman to protect.”

“She is  _ exactly _ the kind of woman to protect.”

“Not by granting her ignorance. She would be much more helpful knowing than left in the dark.”

“Help? How would Lady Chase help?”

“She knows Marquis Castellan. In fact, no one here knows him better.”

“You could be right.” Nico finally conceded.

“In any case, everyone has a right to know when they’re in danger.”

“Do they?”

“If they are left ignorant, they are left defenseless.” Well. Nico couldn’t argue with that, either. His mood was even poorer now.

“Fine, fine. I’m going to walk the perimeter.” Nico pushed past Sir Solace and moved out of the castle. He studied each brick, each chink in the wall until he was satisfied that no one could simply scamper up. The building was too smooth. He passed several knights on his movement through the night, and was more than pleased that each had spotted him and demanded his identity and evidence. With that kind of vigilance, the castle would be as safe as possible. Even so, if there was one weakness, Marquis Castellan’s men would find it. He took a moment to pray, hoping anything and everything would help.

He wasn’t really religious, but it was not something one overlooked when an attack was imminent.

“Sir di Angelo,” Percy’s voice made Nico jerk around and draw his sword.

“Apologies, Percy.” Nico sheathed his blade and bowed.

“You have become even more paranoid than you were the last time I saw you, friend.” Percy smiled. “Has no one told you to settle down somewhere?”

“They tried.” Nico fiddled with his silver ring. “I do not believe I could settle down properly yet.”

“Well, as long as they have made the attempt.” The heir laughed, but kept a lookout. Unfortunately, Percy was quite observant and would pick up on the extra vigilance. Nico wracked his brain to find any viable excuse.

“Have you seen all the nobles set to come?”

“No, the Marquis Castellan has not yet arrived.” At these words, Nico felt ice spreading across his chest.

“The Marquis Castellan was invited?”

“Nay, but I expect him anyway.”

“Do you?” Nico was searching Percy’s face, but like some occasions, it was unreadable in the evening light.

“I do. So do you, Nico.” Percy’s green eyes were intense.

“That I do.” Nico stood his ground. “Did Lady Chase tell you?”

“Nay, I have spies of my own. Do not fear. I have no intention of seeking the knave out.”

“Truly?”

“It was my first instinct.” Percy seemed reluctant to admit it, but Nico waited for him to continue. “However, Lady Chase would not forgive me. It would also be unwise, for he would have sent men here in any case. I will join the guard; protect Lady Chase instead of my own selfish pride.”

“Lady Chase has taught you much,” Nico remarked. “Perhaps, as you are eager and know the lands best, you should decide your post. Were you to invade, where would you strike?”

“From the farrow fields.” Percy answered immediately. “I will take a group, you with them, if you are willing.”

“I am. Allow me to inform Sir Solace that he be charged with the castle’s defences should the worst occur.”

“I will arm myself and my chosen men,” Percy stated. “We meet here again in twenty minutes.”

“Done.” Nico nodded. The two men strode in different directions; when Nico turned to see where Percy had gone, he had already disappeared. It would be the first time he and Percy would fight side by side, and he hoped the both of them would live through it. Marquis Castellan’s men would not be defeated easily. Finally, he found Sir Solace at the base of the east tower.

“Sir Solace,” he called.

“Aye?”

“I met Lord Percy outside. He was informed of the situation by his own men.”

“Has he left?”

“Nay, he has joined our guard. There will be a team sent to the farrow fields, for that is the weakest spot in the estate.”

“You will be in that team?”

“Aye.”

“Be safe.”

“You as well. You are the last line of defense for Lady Chase and Duke Blofis.”

“It will be defended to the last man.” Sir Solace swore. Nico remembered when he thought Sir Solace’s smiles were all the blond had to offer. There was no smile now, and there was a quiver on Sir Solace’s back. The blade he’d carried earlier was still on his hip, and a bow was in his hand. On his other hip was a medic’s bag, herbs peaking out and their aroma filling the space they shared. Nico realized he’d been entirely wrong. Now he’d trust the other man without question. All he could do in this instance was bow to Sir Solace and hope he had the chance to be kinder, perhaps even friendly.

He could hear the echo of his boots as he ran down the hall. Once outside, he was met with five men, all wearing grim expressions.

“Where is Lord Percy?”

“Giving Lady Chase his last pledges.” Nico winced. He could not imagine that being a pleasantry. Soon, he saw the heir to the duchy arrive.

“Move out, men.” That was all he said. The seven of them followed the green-eyed swordsman into the empty fields. Hours passed. The men watched the moon rise and the stars quietly echo its light. Nico had a hand on his sword as his eyes scanned for any movement. Percy paced, circling the group. Each man was unsettled by the lack of action, waiting with bated breath for the Marquis’ men to make an appearance. Nico knew from experience that waiting was more dangerous to the mind than the battle. He was determined to keep his resolve, to rein in his own anxiety and dread. Another hour passed as the men paced, watched the castle for any sign of impending conflict, and generally grew more and more agitated by the peaceful night. Grass swayed to trick the eye that someone approached; leaves rustled to tease the ear of a sneaking assassin; the soft scent of earth filled his nostrils to give him a false sense of security. Nico closed his eyes, held his iron sword point down to the earth, and focused on his breathing. He would prevail.

After another hour, there was real movement from the eastern wood. Five men rushed out into the open, obviously prioritizing speed over stealth. Of course, that had been a grave mistake. Nico charged with a battle cry. Swords were drawn, and his peripheral vision showed Percy clashing with one man and the rest of the team taking a man each. Two raced back to the castle, hoping to sound the alarm. Vibrations sang up Nico’s arms, and he remembered that he was trading blows with another swordsman. He gritted his teeth and shoved the man back three paces. It was space enough to build up momentum for his swing, which was parried. He blocked, struck, and at one point kicked the other man. Time became irrelevant. From the determination in his opponent’s eyes, Nico knew that should he lose, he would lose his life. As luck would have it, the other man got past Nico’s guard and sliced into his right shoulder. Of course, now the man was going in for the kill. He bared his teeth as he lifted his sword against the man’s blow, then feinted to the right despite the pain.  _ Was his shoulder on fire? _ He pushed the thought aside, refused to look. The man tried to block, but Nico’s sword was already high on the left, coming down. The pommel of Nico’s sword clanged onto the other’s helmet. The man crumpled to the ground and Nico kicked the sword away. Percy and the others had restrained their own opponents, though wounded, and collected the fallen weapons. A group of ten men were rushing into the field from the castle, decorated with the Duke’s coat of arms.

“Stand down!” Nico ordered. The other knights slowed at the command.

“Take these to the dungeons. We will interrogate them in the morning. Put their weapons in the armory.” Percy sheathed his sword as the men followed his orders. Nico sheathed his as well, and walked to the bloodied man.

“You should go to Sir Solace.” Nico’s eyes drifted over to where a nasty cut had spread on Percy’s left hip.

“Aye, and so should you.” Percy looked him over. “That looks quite nasty. Is it smoking?”

“Off we go then.” Nico frowned at his shoulder, noting that it did look like steam was exiting the wound as well as blood. The two men walked back to the castle in silence. Nico was entirely satisfied with that outcome. Once at the castle, he caught the attention of a knight.

“Find nine others, and guard the farrow fields. Keep an eye out for other invasion forces.” The knight nodded and left quickly.

“You think he will have sent multiple teams?”

“I would have.” Nico said grimly. “Let us hope they have a boring watch.” Percy blew out a long breath and headed towards the east tower with Nico. They didn’t have far to walk, as Sir Solace had his bow slung over his shoulder with the quiver, medic pack on his hip, and sword still sheathed. It was almost as if the knight had just bade Nico farewell, sworn to defend the castle to the last man. He could still see the intensity in the other man’s eyes.  _ Is it truly so long after? _

“Let me see.” he shoved past other knights walking.

“Percy first,” Nico told Sir Solace.

“Nico’s is worse, mine is just a scratch. Mine is no longer even bleeding.”

“As you say, my Lord.” Will—Sir Solace—undid Nico’s armor straps as Percy removed his breastplate.

“Truly, I am fine.” Nico tried to protest, but his adrenaline was wearing off and he was feeling dizzy. As his breastplate was removed, the pain surged through him like a river of fire. He gasped, then cursed viciously as Will began doctoring his shoulder. Black spots danced in his vision and the dizziness turned to nausea. He managed to stay conscious while Percy helped Will dress and bandage his shoulder.

“Sit,” Will said as he leaned Nico against the wall. He had time to register the lean strength in Will’s arms as he was guided to the floor. Nico thought that sitting for a bit was a great idea. In an odd way, he felt like he was drifting. Aloof, he watched as Will cared for Percy’s wound. Percy had been right; the cut was shallow and easily bandaged. He would not even scar from that. Idly, he wondered if he would have a scar. Would Will continue treating him? He hoped he would. The blond knew what he was doing with his hands. His hands and fingers were calloused from the bow he wielded, but gentle when bandaging a wound. Capable, strong, and gentle—that was Sir William Solace. He wished he had known the man sooner. He wished he hadn’t been so ornery with him. Perhaps they could have been close. He tried to remind himself that those thoughts were not helpful, were not even possible. Yet he wished for quiet days in his native Italy, showing Will the architecture and sights. Will would like Italy. They could find a way to live quietly. Once, Nico had thought he could be a priest for the dead. Of course, it was not to be. Instead, he was recruited and trained to be a swordsman. Escaping to knighthood had been the only good thing he’d received. Yes, he was dangerous with a blade, and yes, his skill made him a living. He could see Will’s blue eyes. A living suddenly seemed a tiny success. Someday, perhaps, he could hold Will’s hand as they walked down a sun-washed street. He could feel a gentle touch on his forehead, see that Will’s mouth was drawn down.  _ Have I done something? _

He heard something, something deep and gentle. Somehow, he couldn’t make sense of the sound. His vision went a bit gray, then black.

  
  


“He should wake soon.”

“You need rest as well, Sir Solace.”

“I shall rest when I am assured he is on the mend.”

“That could take—”

“Dismissed, Grace.”

There were footsteps after the heavy sigh. Nico was finally able to open his eyes, though once he did the light forced him to close them again. It was too bright, and he groaned in frustration. His mouth was dry as dust, his lips felt jagged. There was pain in his shoulder throbbing consistently. It occurred to him that he was not doing very well at all.

“Easy,” a voice cautioned him.  _ Will _ . “Here, drink.” Cool liquid was poured into his mouth. It was light and refreshing, and Nico drank it eagerly. Now his mouth felt slightly better, but everything else was the same. Then, the sequence of events came flooding back.

“Lady Chase—” His throat betrayed him, making his voice rasp and dissolve into coughing.

“Don’t try to speak, you just had a fever from infection. The blade was dipped in some kind of poison. You had quite a battle with it.” As the words floated into Nico’s brain, more liquid was poured into his mouth. He swallowed it, then tried to lift a hand. Somehow, his arm was far too heavy to lift.

“Don’t care about that,” he managed after the bowl was taken away. “Lady Chase.” The efforts made him cough again, but he stared at Will until an answer was given.

“She’s safe and cared for. Her father has dissolved the betrothal between her and Marquis Castellan, which has caused quite the uproar. Lord Percy has made an offer of marriage to her, which she accepted. They’re currently together at the Chase estate, making plans for the wedding. Now, hold still. This may sting.” The last statement was followed by Nico’s hissing Italian curse words. His shoulder was bathed in something that made walking through a raging fire seem delightful.

“I am certain I have just received all your best compliments.” Nico could appreciate the dry humor, but he would suffer another ring of hellfire before he admitted to it.

“You...are a sick bastard.” Nico was still breathing quite heavily.

“Quite the contrary is true, I assure you. I happen to be in very good health and was born legitimately.”

“ _ Vaffanculo _ ,” Nico croaked.

“I’m going to take that as a warm comment on how gratified you are to hear it.” Something wet and cool was placed on his forehead. “Now, you’re going to rest a bit. Sleep.”

“No, I must…”

As it happened, Nico needed sleep more than whatever he  _ must _ have done. He awoke some amount of time later, again to voices.

“You believe he shall recover?”

“Aye, my Lord.”

“I am grateful for it, Sir Solace. None has his skill with a blade, nor his mind for defending a home. Of course, he is also a good friend of my son. Were he here as often as Percy liked, I would call him son by now.”

“I am sure Sir di Angelo would appreciate that sentiment.”

“I am not so sure. He is very reserved and private, likely as you have observed. He may find that awkward.”

“Then I shan’t endeavor to tell him.”

“Thank you, Sir Solace. I do hope you know that it is essential that you rest as well.”

“I am resting well here, thank you.”

“I had to try.”

“It was an impressive attempt, my Lord.”

“I shall leave you to your duty, sir.”

“Until supper, my Lord.” Footsteps left the room a short time after, and Nico remained as he was. The Duke thought him another son...or would, if he were present more often. He did not know how to handle such a notion. His own parents were dead, had been for years. His sister had died a bit later, but he had been on his own longer than he had family to support him. He had not been here at the castle in five years, though he wrote occasionally to the Duke regarding business.

It had been so long since he had dwelled on thoughts like that. Really, it was best he did not. Instead, he opened his eyes to see his room in the Duke’s castle, and Sir William Solace at a desk nearby. From what Nico could tell, he was drawing with a charcoal stick.

“What are you drawing?” Speaking was easier, which lifted his mood. It didn’t feel like his throat was chock full of glass. Will started, then narrowed his eyes at him. He put the charcoal stick down and wiped a hand on a cloth as he moved towards Nico’s bed.

“How is your shoulder?” The question was accompanied by a testing hand on Nico’s forehead and cheeks.

“It could be better.” Nico winced. The pain had dulled, but it still throbbed like a second heart.

“It  _ is _ better,” Will told him, then took some herbs and sprinkled them into a mortar. He ground them quickly and without fuss.

“What is that?”

“It will make your shoulder well again, with time and a bit of exercise with it.”

“I am left-handed.” Nico wished he had not said that, for many still held the belief that it was a sign of evil.

“Then you would best practice with your right hand for a bit—build the strength up and add valuable skill.” Will added some liquid to the herbs without a sign of any surprise or malice. He mixed it as Nico processed that reaction, unable to argue with Will’s suggestion. Instead, Nico narrowed his eyes as Will sniffed at the tincture, swiped a finger into it to judge the consistency.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“I wanted to make sure any I worked with would live through the experience. Unfortunately, even if you win a fight, an injury can make the victory null and void. Now, breathe long and deeply. I do not know if this will sting still.”

It did, in fact, sting still. Nico’s vision went grey as it was applied, but luckily the mixture settled after a moment. His shoulder still felt quite warm, and Nico was struggling to regulate his breathing.

“Do you always burn your patients to death?” Nico panted.

“No, I much prefer shooting an arrow in the neck.” Will’s matter-of-fact voice very nearly made Nico laugh, but he swallowed it. Soon, there was another cool cloth on his forehead.

“You should rest again,” Will suggested.

“I should write Lord Percy while I am awake,” Nico countered.

“Certainly. If you are able to rise from this bed, I shall fetch you paper and ink for your letter.” Nico slanted a glance at the blond. Will seemed entirely serious. He licked his lips and decided he ought to take advantage of the offer while it was available. Propping his elbows on the mattress, he tried to push himself up to a sitting position.

After four determined tries, he was sweaty and exhausted.

“I believe you are ready to rest now, Sir di Angelo.” The bland voice was accompanied by again placing a cool cloth on Nico’s forehead.

“Call me Nico.”

That, and the impression of a warm smile on Will’s face, was all he could recall before sleep took him once more.

Once he woke again, it was to the scritch scratch of something against paper. Or, he was fairly certain it was something scratching against paper. His eyes opened to find Will again holding a charcoal stick, dragging it against the paper with his lips pursed and a frown on his brow. For that moment, he was content to simply watch as Will’s fingers turned grey, then black. He registered that his shoulder was no longer throbbing, though it was still sore. Glancing at it, he could see that it was clean and bandaged. Likely, Will had changed it while he slept. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t bleeding or secreting pus anymore. If he were lucky. He assumed not.

Suddenly, Will set the charcoal stick down and scrutinized what he’d done. Nico saw the narrowed eyes critiquing the page just as he’d critiqued his shoulder wound. Will wiped off his hand and stretched. Nico tried not to notice the flexing biceps and taught forearms, but Will’s tunic was too tight for that. It was also impossible not to remember how Will had held him when he was first injured. He could still feel the hands on his uninjured shoulder, then on his lower back as he was set gently on the ground, leaned against the wall. He could still see the blue eyes, intense and focused on doing what needed to be done just then. The determination was the same as Will looked over the piece of paper, ever insistent that it be done properly and to the best of Will’s ability. If he could, he’d walk over there and—

_ Bad idea. Bad idea. Do not think about anything remotely physical with him, it is not worth it whatsoever. _

“You are with the realm of the living again.” Will’s voice took him out of the scolding he’d been giving himself.

“Yes I am, it seems.” He very nearly winced at how awkward that sounded. “What do you have there?”

“What?”

“The paper.” Nico gestured vaguely with his good arm. He noted that he could lift his arm without trouble.

“Oh.” Will’s mouth made the shape of an ‘o’ as well. He turned toward it before speaking again. “It is a drawing. I draw to...relax or distract myself from thinking too much.”

“Could I see it?”

“You…” Will stared at him for a bit. “Yes, here.” The blond brought over the paper for Nico to look at. Immediately, Nico started to grin. Will was clearly no artist, but the drawing was distinctly a scene from the east courtyard of the castle. Lord Percy and Lady Chase were sitting on a bench quietly near the small pond. It was a sweet drawing, though he’d seen better artists. It just felt like another piece of Will to hold close, even if he never got to hold the man.

“You like it?”

“I do,” Nico confirmed. He turned his attention to Will, and saw that the man was blushing. He averted his eyes and sat up. Secretly, he was thrilled to have his strength back.

“I think I am no true artist, but it centers the spirit and soul.”

“Perhaps there are better artists, but your drawing here is fine and very recognizable. I know the exact spot you have depicted.”

“Truly?” Will looked both surprised and pleased.

“I do not lie,” Nico told him gravely. “It has no service for either party.”

“I find that admirable.” Will’s smile made a twin stretch across Nico’s face, and he handed back the paper.

“I find the truth is always simpler than creating a falsehood, that is all. I have no patience for fabrication or pretence.”

“Ah, and here I beheld you as virtuous.”

“Not so much as you would be inclined to believe.”

“No?”

“You are inclined to think the better of any man.”

“It is true,” Will acknowledged with a laugh. “However, I think you are inclined to think the worse of any man.”

“I do.” Nico readily admitted it. “When I am wrong, it is a wondrous surprise rather than a disappointment.” That made Will laugh uproariously. Soon, Nico was laughing with him despite the mild pain in his shoulder. He couldn’t remember having this easy camaraderie with any in his acquaintance.

“I find that to be quite a positive outlook on a negative world.”

“I find you are making me too virtuous again.” Nico averted his gaze.

“No, I think not.” Will’s voice sounded so sincere, so quietly certain it reminded him of Bianca. She, too, had always thought the best of him.

“Beg pardon, Sirs.” A voice came from the doorway, belonging to a man with a tray of bread and a bowl of steaming something.

“Thank you, Argus.” Will rose, setting aside his drawing. Argus passed the tray, bowed politely, and dismissed himself. Will brought the tray and set it on Nico’s lap.

“It is not quite the supper you would be used to, but better than simple broth and ale.”

“I am quite looking forward to the bread,” Nico told him before spooning some stew into his mouth. It was much more flavorful than the broth he’d had when he’d been awake enough. There were vegetables cooked well, along with a bit of meat he couldn’t identify. Happily, he devoured the supper on the tray.

“I am very glad your appetite has returned. ‘Tis a good sign.” Will took the tray away, and called for a servant to return it to the kitchen.

“I am glad for it as well, and may ask for another serving.” 

“Another serving you shall have, then.” Will handed the tray to a serving girl and made the request.

“Thank you, Will.” Nico closed his eyes as he settled back. Suddenly, it dawned on him that he’d presumed to use Will’s first name, and a nickname of that. “Forgive me. I should never have presumed to...I apologize, Sir Solace.”

“I beg you, no. I quite prefer hearing Will to Sir Solace.” Will’s face was a mirror of calm and sincerity. Nico relaxed then, and nearly cursed himself for feeling absolute joy at the permission to speak so informally with the other man. “After all,” Will continued, “you have given me permission to call you Nico.”

“I did, yes. Formalities tend to both bore and grate me.”

“I am the same.”

“Are you?” Nico had not anticipated that from the well-mannered knight. “I see you as completely at ease with the formalities of our betters.”

“I appear that way as it is much more preferable to our betters. In using those formalities with ease I gain approval and favor, along with better work.” Will shrugged. “Amongst my fellow men, I much prefer simplicity and efficacy of communication.”

“‘Efficacy of communication’? And how is that simplicity?” Nico grinned.

“Intelligence and simplicity can be merged, Nico.”

“Perhaps,” Nico allowed, “but it is rarely done.”

“Too rarely done, in my opinion.”

“If we and our equals could only earn more, it could be done more often.” Nico shrugged.

“I find that to be painfully true.” Will sighed. “I have too little coin to spend on books as it is.”

“Have you chosen to buy a book rather than food before?”

“I have,” Will admitted. “Though I think it abhorrent that I had to choose.”

“It is abhorrent,” Nico told him. He hesitated, and decided to ask. “Have any ladies found a liking to your bookish ways?”

“I do not seek ladies’ attention.” Will chuckled. “I prefer the company of men far more.”

“Truly?” Nico was surprised Will would say it so openly.

“Aye.” The blond nodded. “I would thank you not to speak of that with our betters.”

“No, I would think it not their business.” Nico said it calmly, but his heart was racing. “As a matter of fact, I also share your preference. You can believe me to keep your trust.”

Will’s smile spread across his face, and Nico felt as warmed by it as he would by the sun. Somehow, his heart rate settled, and he could feel himself completely relax against the cushions. He heard footsteps before either could speak again, and the serving girl from before curtsied to Will and brought the tray forward. Nico thanked her, and dug in enthusiastically. Things were, even for a cynic like him, starting to be sunny.

“Nico, I have a request.” Will looked nervous, and Nico narrowed his eyes as he swallowed. He thought it was best to wait until Will began speaking again.

“Would you travel with me, take jobs as a team?” Will clasped his hands between his knees. Nico thought of being at Will’s side, traveling and fighting whatever was needed. Costs of beds would be halved if Will was proposing what Nico believed. It would be what he always hoped to have.

“I would,” Nico said roughly. “I think it would be wonderful to have a partner.” He watched Will’s smile return, and felt its mirror spread across his own lips.

Yes, things were looking very sunny indeed.


End file.
